Outdoors
The BDN outdoors section brings readers into the woods, waters and wild places of Maine. It features stories on hunting, fishing, wildlife, conservation and recreation, told by people who live these experiences. This section emphasizes hands-on knowledge, field reports, issues, trends and the traditions that define life outside in Maine. Read more Outdoors stories here.
There were 22 adults and six chicks reported on Pushaw Lake during last year’s Maine Audubon Loon Count. I can confirm that figure. At about 3 a.m. on calm, clear nights, they all gather outside my bedroom window and call loudly enough to shake the foundation. In winter, when the lake is frozen, I can sleep through the night.
First, the bad news: Those were the lowest numbers tallied on Pushaw Lake in 20 years. Now the good news: Maine’s loon population is doing well overall. A total of 3,174 loons were reported across southern Maine lakes last year, including 568 chicks. The population has more than doubled since the first official Loon Count in 1983.
Populations fluctuate annually on every lake. Weather is often a factor. The number of volunteers on each lake also varies, leading to undercounts in some years. What matters most is that the statewide total shows a stable population that continues to grow slowly.
Currently, more than 1,800 volunteers count loons on 400 lakes and ponds across southern Maine. Such enthusiastic support for community science signifies two things: Loons are popular and surveying them is easy. Volunteers fan out to assigned areas at 7 a.m. on the third Saturday of July. Everyone counts loons at the same time for a mere half hour, then stops. This minimizes the likelihood of loons being double-counted if they wander out of one designated survey area into another.
This year’s loon count is next Saturday, July 18. Traditionally, surveys covered only southern lakes because northern lakes didn’t have enough resident volunteers to cover the necessary territory. It’s difficult to find enough people willing to drive hours north just to launch a boat for a 30-minute survey.
Nonetheless, Maine Audubon is working to expand the range of surveyed lakes north of the 45th parallel — essentially everywhere north of Old Town. Some northern lakes have been surveyed in previous years, but consistently enough to scientifically track population trends. More progress is made each year.
Note to self: It’s too late to sign up to survey a remote lake this year. But maybe next year. Have canoe, will travel.
I’m optimistic about this year’s count. Finding a loon with a chick is good fortune. A loon nesting in front of my house is currently tending two chicks. They’re well-fed and growing fast. I think their odds of survival are good. They’re now too large to be eaten by a snapping turtle or one of the northern pike that infest Pushaw. Bald eagles remain the only threat.
Pushaw has many eagles, but it also has many loons. For most of June, the loons called out warnings whenever an eagle approached. They’re quieter in July, aware that they and their youngsters can simply submerge if trouble comes. Meanwhile, the eagles often perch in tall lakeside trees, watching for opportunity. They now seem to be ignoring the loons, apparently in agreement that the small chance of success is not worth the effort.
Meanwhile, I’ve decided to get better acquainted with my local loons. I already know what their calls mean. I know what makes them nervous. I’m not sure how any of that changes as summer rolls along, so I’ve paddled out to greet them on several mornings this past week.
Pushaw’s loons are thoroughly familiar with people. They routinely contend with speedboats, pontoon boats and jet skis. Occasionally they mistake my kayak for a fishing boat and come over to see if I have something to offer freely or something they can snatch. They don’t mind company, but they don’t like to feel pursued. If I don’t paddle directly toward them, they tend to relax.
They also relax as their chicks grow. When the hatchlings were very young, both parents acted anxious even when I was hundreds of yards away. Now the chicks are older and the adults show less concern. They even wander off to forage, leaving the youngsters on their own. Dad often ventures a mile or more away, prompting the pair to wail their whereabouts periodically to stay in touch.
If I do drift too close, the adult may rise up, flap its wings and give the tremolo warning call. I back-paddle immediately and everything promptly returns to normal.
So, on the whole, my Pushaw Lake loons are good neighbors.
Except at 3 a.m.
